Killer Comfort
by Pass Crow
Summary: Just a little snippet between Tig and Happy set before everything went to hell, when Phil was a prospect, Ope was alive and Clay wasn't a douche. SLASH "Feckin' idiots can't just get drunk and share a croweater like everyone else. Nay, ye've gotta beat each other bloody."


_**Kurt Sutter and FX own Sons, don't sue me. Please.**_

* * *

Tig's eyes gleamed a maniacal blue as he shuffled around the ring, his boots thudding easily against the lightly padded surface. Happy was pacing him, his bigger body narrowing the distance between them slightly with each step. Both of them were stripped to the waist and covered with sweat. Blood had already been spilled and the red that leaked from Tig's split lip matched the dribble from Happy's nose.

"C'mon Killer." Tig taunted, raising his fists a bit higher. "We gonna dance all night?" They both ignored the cat calls and insults that ranged from the sidelines, focused only on each other as they circled. "Bring that ugly goddamn face over here."

"On the way." Happy's guttered voice was flat and emotionless but light flared in his eyes as he looped a fist towards Tig's ribs. The hit snapped hard a second before the curly haired man countered, his fist plowing into Happy's gut. Tig followed through with a head butt, his forehead smacking into the other man's hard enough to drag a splash of colored light across his vision. He was laughing even as he shook his head to clear it, blood spraying from his nose as he hauled hard breaths. Flexing his fingers he waved a come on gesture to the other man and easily side stepped an awkwardly thrown right. Happy smiled at the motion and Tig couldn't backpedal fast enough to avoid the wicked left that instantly closed his eye in a rush of pain and heat. "Close enough Tigger?"

"Nah. How 'bout you suck my dick? Or fuck me, that'd be close enough." Flicking blood off his eyebrow Tig waded back in, his head cocked at a lower angle as he tried to figure depth and distance with only one eye. "That work for you?"

"Depends. You douche today?" A smile crossed thin lips as Happy growled, both hands tagging out to slap lightly against Tig's cheeks.

"Just for you. Strawberry vanilla. Wanna taste?" Tig caught one of the slaps and used his grip on the thick wrist to shove the other man back a full step. He thrust himself forward without thinking, letting his fists lead as he pummeled at the more muscular man. Happy gave as good as he was getting, his shots calm and planned as he tried to turn the other man's wild assault back.

"Sure." Finally tiring of the concentrated hits Happy slung both hands full into Tig's shoulders and shoved him back, the set stance of his feet aiding in his leverage as he rammed the thinner man directly into Bobby's arms. The big man wrapped Tig up, turning him away from Happy as he broke the fight up.

"Okay Tigger. Okay. Enough, yeah?" Bobby's voice was calming and smooth as he walked the Sergeant at Arms in a small circle, waiting for acknowledgment before leading him back towards Happy. "Hug it out and get some beer." Bobby eyed both of them before turning his brother loose and shoving him into a hard embrace with the other man. "You're bloody enough to have all the girls wet."

"Pussy." Tig mumbled into Happy's shoulder, wiping his bloodied face into heated sweat. "I kicked your ass." Happy slapped Tig's back hard enough to leave marks as he returned the hug. "Admit it."

"Fuck you." They were both laughing as they staggered towards the ropes arm in arm.

* * *

"Jesus Christ!" Tig's head jerked as he swore, one hand clenching against the edge of the bar as he lifted a shot of whiskey with the other. Chibs just passed him a slightly drunken glance as he knotted the sutures quickly. "You're not sewin' the goddamn thing shut are ya?"

"Aye." The Scotsman replied as he added another stitch, his fingers steady as he threaded the black thread through swollen and still bloodied skin. "Feckin' idiots can't just get drunk and share a croweater like everyone else. Nay, ye've gotta beat each other bloody."

"It's fun." Tig waited until Chibs started looping the thread into a knot to down the shot, his throat working convulsively. Snorting the other man finished the stitch and used small sharp scissors to snip the needle free.

"Four more to add to the collection. Clean it up, put something on it. Go easy for the night." Chibs dropped the needle and the scissors back into the suture kit he'd lined into the clean wood of the bar. He commandeered the whiskey bottle Tig had been pouring shots out of and heaved himself off the stool. "I've better things to do than fix your cracked skull." His balance was sketchy as he headed off into a darkened corner of the clubhouse already loosening his belt. "Take some vicodin and don't call me in the morning, brother."

Tig smirked as a tall blond from Tacoma quickly insinuated herself at the half drunk man's side, her body sliding lithely under his arm as she led him towards one of the couches that lined the walls. Turning back to the bar he eyed the prospect, ready to yell for liquor before realizing that a half full tumbler of golden liquid already rested by his elbow. The suture tray had been cleaned up and in it's place rested a small unlabeled bottle of pills.

"Vicodin?" He questioned the large prospect, half a smile tugging at the new stitches that rode along his eyebrow. Phil nodded, his hands fiddling with a cleaning rag. "You're a good kid. Go on, get the fuck outta here and have some fun." Most of the party had either drifted outside or back into the dorms and Tig waved the prospect towards the door. "Anyone needs anything, they know where it is." The kid moved with a strange grace for such a big guy as he slipped from behind the bar, but he came to a clumsy stop as Tig grabbed into the almost pristine leather of his cut. "Clean and spotless before we get up though, yeah?"

"Yeah." Phil answered, a slight blush breaking between his scruffy beard and the smudged lenses of his glasses. "Yes sir." He amended in the same breath.

"Get outta here." Tig laughed and pushed into the other man's shoulder before grabbing the glass of whiskey in one hand and the bottle of pills in the other.

* * *

He didn't bother with the lock on his dorm door, just kicked it shut before slumping painfully against the clean sheets that lined his bed. His swollen and battered knuckles twinged as he popped the lid off the pills and dumped a couple into his palm. Rolling his shoulders slightly he tipped the pills into his mouth and drank them down with the whiskey. Setting the mostly empty glass into the bedside table he pried off his rings, carefully adding them to the clutter. A dozen different aches had made themselves known before he worked off his boots and slung them at the foot of the bed. Not bothering with his clothes he settled back into the bed, letting the cool sheets wick at the sweat that lined the back of his neck as he pulled deep and full breaths. He lined a palm to his side, carefully expanding his rib cage against the light bruises he could feel running the thin skin.

"You get sewed up?" Happy slipped in the door silently, his broad fingers snapping the lock firmly before he crossed the small room.

"Yeah, Chibs was halfway to drunk with pussy and whiskey but he sunk some stitches." Tig spared the other man a one eyed glance, tilting his head against the pillows so that the light fell brighter on the swollen side of his face. "They even?"

"Pretty much." Happy dropped the bag he was carrying onto the mattress and leaned closer, the tip of his pinky finger running the coarse threads that held the other man's brow closed. "Not gonna make you uglier anyway."

"Prick." Happy shrugged at the insult and scooped up the bag, his thick fingers wrapping against a full bottle of vodka and pulling it to his chest. "Wanna talk about ugly, go look in the mirror."

"Can't. You already broke it with that fuckin' mug. C'mon." Happy started shedding clothes on his way towards the small bathroom that was cornered on the other side of the room. He paused long enough to hang his cut off the back of the door, but everything else fell to the floor along the way. Tig smirked as he watched the other man's movements, his eye following the scarred line of Happy's back as muscles flexed and moved under the tattooed skin.

"You know I kicked your ass right?" Tig asked as he stood from the bed, most of the ache in his body forgotten as he followed suit, his clothing joining the other man's on the floor. Happy turned him a cold look, the slightest hint of a smile thawing against the firm expression.

"I'm not the one leaking blood Tigger."

* * *

"Motherfucker!" Tig led a slap into the tile of the shower stall when Happy poured vodka onto the sutures above his eyebrow. The alcohol burned against the hot flesh for a full twenty seconds before the bigger man leaned closer, his tongue running the bruise that spread shadowed wings back into curls. "That's fuckin' tender." Happy sucked at the vodka, the pressure of his tongue gentling as he swiped an open mouthed kiss over the burning stitch line.

"I'll bet." Tig jumped again when teeth scraped at his jaw, finding another bruise. "Head back." Happy pulled a swig of the vodka and tightened his free hand into the nape of Tig's neck. He smiled when the other man complied, holding the liquor in his mouth while kissing against Tig's split lip. His teeth worried against the swollen flesh and the welted cut as he let the alcohol wash between them. Tig groaned into the sting of pain even as lust warmed against his chest. When he tried to turn his head Happy tightened his fingers brutally, thumb sliding to add pressure directly over the thinner man's adam's apple.

"Breathe." Happy demanded, slacking his hold slightly. "Now." He tightened his fingers before the other man had pulled a full breath, cutting off the deep inhale before sucking back another swig of vodka. Lazily he set the bottle overhead, pushing in onto the ledge that ran the top of the stall. One blue eye followed his movements, the other bruised and swollen shut under the line of rough stitches. "Again."

There was another hauled breath as Happy adjusted his hold, large palms cupping the sides of Tig's neck so that the heels of his hands covered the throb and pull of the arteries under the skin. His thumbs caressed the black stubble that lined the underside of the other man's jaw before he tightened his hands again. He felt the blood quicken and then slow under the sharp angle he pulled, tilting Tig's jaw up hard so that he could kiss against bluing lips. Vodka and copper washed his tongue as he forced the kiss deeper, the stilted tension that ran the older man's jaw strained and gasping. "Again." As he spoke he blew his own breath into the other man's lungs, his hands sliding up to pull at sweated curls. Tig gasped against him, hauling oxygen so fast that it made his head spin, dizziness sagging him against Happy's hard chest. "Good?"

"Yeah." Tig steepled his fingers against Happy's sides as he heaved deep breaths, his throat burning with the effort. The laugh that Happy led into the back of the other man's dipped head was closer to a growl. He bent slightly, turning Tig closer to the wall so that he could palm against the water faucet, spinning cold water down over their shoulders. Almost before Tig could hiss discomfort heat flared into the spray and Happy turned him into it, letting the water wash into dark curls.

"Drink?" The heavier man hooked his thumb around the vodka bottle and pulled it down. He took a swig before pressing it to the other man. 'Good with vicoden."

"Sure." Tig swallowed the clear liquid with a smile, the burn and sting of it against his lip furrowing his brow slightly. "Got a lump on your jaw there Killer…little cut on your forehead." His smile widened as he let the bottle lag down by his side, squinting at the bruises that were darkening against Happy's skin. "I didn't do so bad. This eye? Lucky goddamn shot.'

"We could go again." Happy slicked a bar of soap across his chest, using his blunted nails to scrub suds into his skin. "See how lucky I am." Tig swallowed more alcohol and watched the other man continue to spread lather up his neck and over his shaved skull.

"Could." He guttered against the bottle, finishing it before dropping it outside the shower stall. "I had other plans, but I'm, ya know, flexible."

"I know." Happy blinked black eyes open, fixing a flat stare on the other man as he pushed closer to the shower head. His fingers curled against the gray hair that lined Tig's chest, stroking the soap into dusky skin before wrapping the thick silver chain that dangled from his neck.

"So we'll say I kicked your ass." Tig nodded into the words, eyebrow lifting slightly. "And that you got in a lucky shot?" Happy growled and jerked at the chain, releasing it just before the metal snapped.

"Bite me."

"Could be arranged." Tig didn't even flinch when the other man slapped the bar of soap into his chest and shoved him out of the spray. "If you're very, very nice."

"I ain't nice." Happy said. He rubbed against his arms and shoulders, sluicing away sweat and soap before tilting his head back so that the fall of water washed over him. Tig nodded into the words and soaped up quickly, his hands careful as he wiped against his face.

"Even better."

* * *

There was a tanged taste of soap across the flat plane of Tig's back as Happy licked into the smooth skin, teeth scraping against the scarred bullet hole that rode just under the sharp slope of his shoulder. Water still ran their skin, the drops spreading darkening spots into the smooth white sheets as they crawled across the mattress. The movements were known and fluid, Tig spreading himself face down against the even spread of his military corners. He gripped into the battered posts that ran the headboard, fingers paling out as he used the grip to pull himself farther forwards. There was a rattle of metal as Happy adjusted the open bracelet of each set of handcuffs, his weight pressing hard into Tig's lower back as he straddled him to grab at his wrists.

"High or low?" With one jerked movement Happy tugged Tig's hands free, pulling them up and back in a way that groaned against the other man's shoulder muscles. He dipped down so that his tongue could run the stressed lines, the weight of his body an effective counterweight as he licked higher, teeth rubbing against Tig's jaw.

"High." Tig said., turning his head slightly to ease the bend of his neck. With a grin Happy led Tig's arms forward, working one wrist at a time into the handcuff loops that hung from the higher posts of the headboard. His hands were gentle as he lined thick leather scraps between cold metal and sweated skin. Even with the leather, pain sliced into Tig's wrists and forearms as the other man pulled him down, letting his upper body hang from the handcuffs while his pelvis and legs settled harder into the bed. "Nice."

"Belt?" Happy rubbed full palms straight up Tig's back, the calluses that lined his skin roughing against sweat as his fingers kneaded into stretched and aching muscles. He dug his fingers into the other man's neck, fingers wiping dark curls before offering comfort to the exaggerated bend.

"Your fists were foreplay enough. C'mon Killer."


End file.
